


Serendipity

by cityonfire



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:14:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19032676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityonfire/pseuds/cityonfire
Summary: A warm summer day, punctuated only by a poisoned arrow wound.





	Serendipity

Annatar stood barefoot, the wind playing with his silvery hair. A strand brushed across his face, and yet he made no movement to brush it away. Celebrimbor, standing beside him, reached out and tucked the strand of hair behind Annatar’s ears. The moon hung soft and full in the sky, and if Annatar regarded it with a certain amount of dislike, Celebrimbor did not notice.

“Your council does not like me,” he murmured. Celebrimbor shrugged.

“My entire guard is dead, Annatar. This is the least of our concerns right now. Food, shelter--” He stopped then, and his eyes silvered with tears. “My entire guard is dead. It’s my fault, I should have been more vigilant, why did I not see them? I should have seen them coming.” He spun around and stared at Annatar. “You could have seen this, you should have had the power. Is it so far beneath you to be able to detect the presence of the enemy?”

Annatar shrugged again. “A millennia ago perhaps, but here I have lost much of my power. I kept you safe, did I not?” He raised his head again and scowled at the moon. “Our first priority is getting you home safely, which, forgive me my small vanity, I believe to be within my power. Then you shall rest, and mourn, and perhaps plan your hunting parties more prudently.” An almost undetectable smile flickered about the corners of his mouth, but Celebrimbor was too busy fainting to notice.

“Oh _shit_ ,” said Annatar, who had once commanded armies, who had once been Mairon and admirable and powerful. “Oh Varda’s cunt, oh shit oh shit oh shit. I warned them, I did, I said don’t aim for the little lordling, but did they listen? Hired help, I swear to Eru…” He glowered at the miniscule arrow jutting out from the joint of Celebrimbor’s leather armor. He pulled it out and crushed it to dust. It had definitely been poisoned. _Fuck._

He could have healed Celebrimbor easily enough, that much was true, but that would call into question the full extent of his capabilities, and that line of questioning was best avoided. To let Celebrimbor die was less than optimal, and then his council really would hate him. Annatar sighed, and traipsed off in search of certain herbs that might help. The stars lit his noble profile, and a pout graced his lips.

For those of the Ainur, things like visibility and light do not really matter, and so Annatar found what he needed quickly enough. He mashed the handful of plants he’d collected into a divot in the stone, near where Celebrimbor lay moaning--Annatar had planned to make Celebrimbor moan at some point and was displeased at the circumstances under which the moaning had occurred. He spooned the plant mash into Celebrimbor’s mouth with his fingers, and was slightly relieved when the green cast left Celebrimbor’s face. He moved Celebrimbor’s body into a more comfortable position, crossed his legs, and waited.

It was near dawn that Celebrimbor’s eyes flickered open. “You saved me,” he sighed. Annatar breathed out slowly, more for the sake of breathing than for the necessity of it. Elves, it would seem, were very fond of stating the obvious.

“Yes. To those of the Ainur, thatat least is possible. Are you well enough to travel?” asked Annatar?

“Not until tomorrow, I think,” said Celebrimbor. He leaned back with a faint air of joy. “We have to spend the day here together while I rest,” he said, “and the night as well.” Annatar arranged his lips in a semblance of happiness.

The sun rose in earnest, then, and Annatar turned his face towards it. He disliked the sun too, as he did most things, but the warmth more than made up for what a bitch Arien was. A faint voice drifted from behind, and he turned absently. “Hmmm?”

“Tell me a story,” said Celebrimbor, “you must know so many. You were there at the start of it all, you must have forgotten more than I will ever know, so please,” and at this he cast his eyes up charmingly, “please tell me a story.”

“Very well then,” said Annatar. “Once there was a great master, greater than you can ever know. And he had a servant who loved him well, and more importantly was more faithful to him than anything.”

“Aule,” said Celebrimbor, and Annatar did not correct him. “I did not mean,” said Celebrimbor, “that you should tell me _your_ story. I do not wish to pry into a past that might give you grief. Let us rather watch the clouds, or tell riddles.”

“No,” said Annatar, “you asked for a story and a story you shall receive.” He gazed into the heart of the sun. He rather fancied that if he stared hard enough, he could see Arien making rude gestures at him.

“His master loved him, in the manner of loving a knife, but he did not see the full extent of what his servant's capabilities. And when his servant succeeded, he rose to the highest of heights, but when he failed, through no fault of his own--” _that bitch and her hound, and his blood steaming in the air, curse her and all her kin_ \--”well, his master was less than kind.” Annatar allowed a single tear to rise to the surface of his perfect eyes. Celebrimbor put a hand on Annatar’s knee, and looked concerned.

“I’d wondered what your falling out with Aule had been, that _bastard_ ,” Celebrimbor murmured.

“Then the servant realized that, though he loved his master, his master loved him not, for who can blame the knife when it slips or the hammer when it falls to the wrong place? So the servant left, and journeyed through the millenia, and found that he had so much to give. And so he wandered from place to place, hoping to be taken in, hoping to share his knowledge.

“Eventually he came to a place with kind and wise lords, who accepted him, and went on a pleasant hunting party.” His voice dropped, and trembled artistically. “Orcs came upon them and slew all but two. It is a great tragedy, even to those of us who see such things time after time.”

Celebrimbor leaned against Annatar. “We will never throw you out,” he said. “Though it be the death of us, you are welcome in our halls.” The rays of sunlight painted Annatar’s hands red and shone off his teeth when he smiled.

“Be careful with such promises, little lordling,” he said, and when he leaned in to kiss Celebrimbor he very carefully did not think of how his blood would taste.

“My council will scarcely dislike you now, when they hear of how they saved my life today,” said Celebrimbor. Annatar bent his head for another kiss, fair hair mixing with dark, and thought about how some things had a way of happening for the best.


End file.
